


A Second Refrain

by Redisaid



Series: One Room [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/F, Two Rooms Universe, more sass than you can shake a stick at, political marriage au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redisaid/pseuds/Redisaid
Summary: A year after the events of Two Rooms, it is once again time for the Winter Veil Ball.





	A Second Refrain

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Two Rooms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15847206) by [Redisaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redisaid/pseuds/Redisaid). 



> Ack! I forgot to put their waltz in there: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPp3Qh-GRqs
> 
> Khachaturian - Masquerade Suite - Waltz

“Do you think they’re quite ready for this?” Sylvanas asked. She continued leading her wife through the steady steps of the waltz, and tilted her head toward the rest of the dancers that circled the floor with them.

“I think they’ll be expecting some sort of spectacle, but otherwise, no,” Jaina told her, smiling, even as the edge of her mask bit into her cheeks.

Sylvanas twirled her easily, asking, “Are you saying that I’ve become known as a creature of spectacle these days?”

“Haven’t you always?” Jaina joked back in response.

She was answered with a now very familiar grin. 

The song ended. The crowd clapped. The other leaders that danced with them stopped and began to move off the floor to mingle. And yes, some heads turned, looking in their direction, wondering what the Queens of New Lordaeron had in store for the next song. 

The music picked up again, into something faster and far more dramatic, but still with the proper beat for a waltz. Sylvanas’ hands had never left her, but they firmly pressed Jaina back into the correct position, and began to swing her around toward the center of the dance floor in a burst of soaring three counts. 

“But what about you?” she asked as all eyes began to fall onto them. “Are you ready?”

“This is child’s play,” Jaina assured her. “Keeping up with you is the hard part.”

“Oh come now. I think we both know that you’re more than capable of keeping up with me,” Sylvanas said, egging her on.

But Jaina didn’t miss a beat, even as Sylvanas could detect the faint shimmer of arcane power begin to flow through her, as Jaina’s hands wove subtle patterns against her back. Their guests’ gasps could be heard even through the soaring strings and booming horns of the court orchestra. If anyone had dared to mark their choice of dress for this year’s masquerade as plain, they now understood why. Indeed, Jaina was wearing only a simple, but elegant white dress accented with dark blues, and her mask was just plain white. Sylvanas herself was clad in the opposite, dark blues with hints of white, but she could see the ice crystals begin to coalesce on her gloves. They collected into patterns--beautiful fractals and swirls. The skirt of her dress was starting to gain the same accents as well as it swept across the floor.

Jaina’s own attire followed suit, with the ice beginning to sparkle in the light of the chandelier that hung above them. The mage grinned, clearly pleased with her work, even as she continued to chant the words to her spell.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sylvanas could see the crystals begin to transform on her, glinting into the impression of armor, of feather-trimmed pauldrons, flashing now with skulls, and then with vines and leaves. Jaina’s own icy covering was beginning to change, shimmering into an impression of her own battle-dress, and flashing here with anchors and fish, and there with the eye symbol of the Kirin Tor. 

More gasps arose from the audience that gathered on the edge of the dance floor as those motifs began to animate. A fish jumped from one of Jaina’s shoulders to the other. The feathers of Sylvanas’ mock-armor flew off, becoming a phoenix that ascended toward the chandelier. 

“You’re doing wonderful,” Sylvanas whispered to her wife. Even though she was in on this plan, she found herself just as enthralled as the others in the room that hadn’t had fair warning. Jaina had told her about what she could do, sure, but seeing it in action was something else. Pragmatic as she was, Sylvanas could still see the incredible artistry of the frost-tinged illusions, and admire it--not to mention how much she was growing to admire the woman that was the source of it.

One of Jaina’s jumping fish turned into a flying ship, which sailed upward to join the phoenix on its journey toward the apex of the vaulted ceiling. The two did their own little dance around the chandelier, circling each other, as if unsure.

It reminded Sylvanas of how they had been, in that first year after they married. They were always testing one another, keeping the other at arm’s length, waiting for the delicate dance that had become their every day to turn into a brawl. It never had, somehow. Instead, it had grown into something neither expected.

The icy illusions spun closer now, as if attracted by some force of nature. They couldn’t escape the other’s pull--intrigued, but still wary. That is, until they crashed into one another beneath the chandelier. It was so sudden and so spectacular. The illusions shattered as the waltz reached its grandest crescendo, instead becoming a flurry of snowflakes, which began to rain down over the royal couple and guests alike.

Cheers, applause, and laughter alike followed. A mixture of folk that would have been only been seen together on a raging battlefield a mere two years ago were now sharing the joy of this display--Forsaken, Human, Worgen, Blood Elf, and even those from beyond the borders of their fledgling kingdom. 

But there were a few bars left to dance, still. With her job over, Jaina could finally relax. Sylvanas felt her ease into the steps--her hands warm even as she surrounded them with cold. Those sea-blue eyes gave the room a brief glance, then, seemingly satisfied that she had put on a good show, finally searched for the gaze of her wife again. 

“Astonishing, as always,” Sylvanas complimented her as she took this opportunity to dip her.

“You asked, I delivered,” Jaina said, as she let herself be lowered toward the floor, trusting in Sylvanas’ unnatural strength to easily pull her up again.

“As I knew you would,” Sylvanas told her, pulling her back up and in close--close enough for the frost crystals that still clung to the edge of her mask to brush against Jaina’s cheek.

“I would dare say that you are going to try to repeat what happened the last time we danced like this, Queen Windrunner,” Jaina said even as she was the one to bring her hand up to the other woman’s chin and draw her closer.

“I was planning on it, Queen Proudmoore, except this time, no one is watching us. They’re all still ogling your little blizzard,” Sylvanas informed her.

“All the more reason for you to kiss me now, before we create a scene again this year,” Jaina all but demanded.

Sylvanas was all too happy to oblige. She kept hold of Jaina’s lips even as they spun around for the last measure of the song. 

The applause, which still hadn’t quite died down from the snow shower, roared to thunderous as the last echo of the wailing strings dissipated from the ballroom. The Queens let go of their embrace, turning to face the crowd of guests. They bowed to each of the four corners of the room, taking in the variety of faces before them, united, just as they were. It hadn’t been easy. It hadn’t exactly been quick. But just as they had learned, their people were beginning to understand that working together, instead of against one another, was the better path.

“We would like to invite all of you to dance now,” Jaina began, collecting a quick spell to amplify her voice so she could be heard throughout the entire hall.

“To celebrate the end of this year with us, to commemorate our victories,” Sylvanas continued, hardly needing a spell.

“And to share in our joys. On behalf of New Lordaeron.”

“And of the Protectorate Pact, let us celebrate our second annual Winter Veil Ball!”

With another roaring cheer, the guests began to crowd onto the dance floor as the orchestra struck up the lofty notes of another song.

This time, it was Jaina’s insistent tug that got Sylvanas’ attention. “Come, I’ve arranged some dance partners for us.”

Now this was a plan she wasn’t in on. “Oh? More of your courting with the Night Elves?” Sylvanas guessed. “I was surprised to see you even found some that were willing to attend any event where I was present. You mean to tell me you’ve got one that agreed to dance with me?”

“No,” Jaina told her with a laugh. “I think you’ll need to give that sort of thing a few more years of diplomacy to become feasible. Your partner was actually quite enthusiastic about this.”

“Now you’ve got me wondering,” Sylvanas told her as they made their way through the guests, offering polite greetings and nods abound as Jaina kept them on a steady path toward these mystery partners.

“That’s my goal in life, don’t you remember? To keep you on your toes,” Jaina reminded her with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

Finally, they stopped on the edge of the dance floor, where they found Vereesa, clad in a sparkling gown of silver and an elegant feathered mask. 

“My sister, then?” Sylvanas questioned. “Or is she dancing with you?”

“Not quite,” Jaina said, flashing a brilliant little smile.

“Boys! Over here!” Vereesa called, smiling as she beckoned two smaller figures over.

Giramar and Galadin were a tangle of gangly limbs, growing all too quickly into adolescence. They nearly tripped over their suddenly too-long legs as they ran to meet up with Queens, bowing quickly and formally before them under Vereesa’s watchful eye. They were clad in matching grey suits, with polished silver masks. Sylvanas could only tell the two apart by the little knick in Giramar’s left ear, which his brother had been so kind as to give him earlier that year via a very convoluted archery accident. They had been repeating--and changing--the story of that incident ever since it happened.

The half-elven boys walked up, extending their hands. Giramar came up to Sylvanas and asked, “May I have this dance, Aunt Sylvanas?”

Galadin similarly asked for Jaina, adding, “...and I get the next song with Aunt Sylvanas. That was the deal!”

“As long as you trade me for Aunt Jaina!” Giramar called after him.

Sylvanas laughed, exchanging one last glance with her wife before she let her nephew guide her back onto the floor. With it, she mouthed a simple phrase, “Thank you, for everything.”


End file.
